


Pure like Blood

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Long-Term Relationship, M/M, Prostitution, Somnophilia, Switching, cop!Jensen, prostitute!jared, underage (Jared's 16/ Jensen's 26)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a deal. It’s two years (730 days, 17,520 hours) before Jared turns eighteen. And if, by some miracle, Jensen’s not in prison and Jared’s not another Joe Doe in the morgue, they’ll both leave Denver and start a new life. But, until then, Jared’s still got work and Jensen’s still a cop who’s hell bent on putting away the rest of Jared’s clients.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexisJane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisJane/gifts).



> A/N: Written as my smpc December entry for my darling, wonderful, beautiful alexisjane who always puts up with my crazy ideas, especially with RBB right now (sorry for all my fussiness, OH HOW ABOUT THIS??, bb). I know that you already got an awesome hooker-cop fic for your spn_j2_xmas gift this year…but you had it on your prompt list twice, and it’s like, impossible to get enough of your favorite trope, am I right?? I SO love you, and I hope you enjoy this, bb. Everlasting thanks go to sleepypercy for the 11th hour beta.

The rain’s coming down hard, practically bouncing off the top of the car as Jensen turns the last corner, making a run down Colfax Avenue before he turns in for the night. 

There’s a silhouette of a tall, lanky shape underneath a lamppost that’s flickering in the storm, threatening to go out at any second. It’s times like these that Jensen half-wishes that when he rounds the corner, the kid won’t be there. That he’ll have found his way into a halfway house, working towards getting a G.E.D and a way out of this life. Of course, that’s mixed with primal fear that if he’s not there waiting for Jensen, he’ll be the next John Doe to turn up at the coroner’s office, knife straight through his abdominal aorta. And when Jensen goes downstairs to the morgue, taking the stairs by twos in his haste to identify the body, Jared will look too small, too pale, on the cold metallic table. 

 

But if that happens eventually, it won’t be tonight, because Jared’s form is waiting for him. Right on schedule. 

 

As he drives closer, Jensen can see the pair of cut-off jean shorts and tight white tee-shirt. If Jensen squints, he can make out the words ‘Save a virgin…do me instead.’ Well, the kid’s never lacked spark. The car slows to a crawl as he eases off the gas pedal and unlocks the doors, rolling down the window with the push of his pointer finger. 

 

“You getting in?” he asks. They’re still playing this farce even though Jared’s been getting in his state-issued Crown Victoria three times a week for the past six months. 

 

Jared’s fingers curl around the open window, knuckles blanching white. He’s shivering, pink nipples pebbled and rising out of the flat planes of Jared’s chest like a mockery of the Great Pyramids, which of course, only makes Jensen want him more. 

 

“You paying?” Jared throws back at him. 

 

The money’s sitting in the passenger seat for Jared to see. It’s not much. Despite what the general public assumes, a cop’s salary isn’t much. Definitely not enough to pay for Jared on a long-term basis, but they’re in somewhat of a relationship, so to speak. Jensen gives him just enough money to buy food, and Jared stays with him for the whole night. Sometimes two. Rarely three. On occasions like Jensen’s birthday, four. He even showed up on his own accord for Thanksgiving and Christmas. That’s how Jensen know the kid’s serious about what’s going on between them. 

 

Jensen nods towards the couple of tens on the black leather and watches as Jared flashes a grin and squeezes his body inside, long legs taking up the entire foot well. 

 

“How was your weekend off?” Jared asks, tilting his hips in order to stick the money in his back pocket. He fucking shakes his head like a dog, loosening the wet shirt from his skin and spraying water everywhere. Jensen’s knuckles tighten against the steering wheel as Jared continues without skipping a beat, “Do anything crazy?” 

 

“Watched football and went out for drinks with Chris.” 

 

“So, what you’re trying to say is ‘it was boring’,” Jared says, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. 

 

“Hey—“Jensen starts to say, but Jared ignores him as usual and rolls down the window as he lights one up. Febreeze should do the trick before Jensen leaves for work tomorrow; it’s worth watching Jared’s lungs expand as he takes in the nicotine and then pushes out the smoke through pursed lips that will soon be wrapped around his dick. 

 

“You should quit, that shit’s toxic,” Jensen says, even though his dick’s already getting hard from watching the show that Jared’s putting on for him. 

 

“Not planning on living long enough to die of lung cancer,” Jared says calmly. 

 

Of course Jared’s not worried. He’s fucking sixteen and doesn’t have the mental capacity for long-term planning. The attitude comes with being sixteen too, and sometimes it almost pushes Jensen to a breaking point, wanting to wrap his hands around Jared’s ever-broadening shoulders and shake some sense into the kid. But he can’t be Jared’s parental figure. They’ve crossed too many lines for that. Jensen can’t even pretend he’s the good guy anymore. He’s not a knight in shining armor, or even a positive role-model. No, on Jared’s worst days, Jensen’s easy money and a place to hide-out for a while to recover from a black eye or bruised ribs. On his best, he’ll be the one to wake Jensen up with a fresh pot of coffee, scrambled eggs, and half a grapefruit with sugar. Playing house, so to speak. He’ll kiss Jensen real sweet, and ask to play a few rounds of Grand-Theft-Auto before he slips out the front door without a word. 

 

“Still, no one wants a hooker with wrinkles who sounds like he’s got TB.” 

 

“And what do I owe your pleasant mood tonight to?” Jared asks, after he takes another drag. 

 

“I’ve got a deposition to attend tomorrow,” Jensen says dully. He fucking hates depositions. All the questions and paperwork are definitely not why he signed up to be a cop. Jensen actually wanted to help people when he started out. What can he say? He was a naïve kid once, too. 

 

“Mmm,” Jared responds, not bothering to use words. And then comes back with an edge of bitterness in his voice, “Guess I shouldn’t keep you up too late, huh?” 

 

“Jared…” 

 

“No, I get it. You have ‘real’ work to do. I’m just here for a little stress relief.” 

 

“You fucking know that’s not true,” Jensen growls. “And if you wanted to leave your job, you know I’d take care of you.” 

 

“Oh yeah. Because no one would be skeptical of an under-aged, non-related, ex-prostitute living under your roof. Yeah. That’ll work out really well for both of us. Then we’ll both be selling our asses on the corner.” 

 

It’s an exaggeration, but it’s not too far from the truth. 

 

“Two years,” he says seriously. “Two more years and then you give this up.” 

 

“What if I don’t want to?” 

 

Jared’s just being difficult now. Jensen takes a deep breath and counts to ten. He can deal with this. It’s not like he’s been on the clock for eight-hours, with a big day tomorrow, only to deal with an angst-ridden teen for the rest of his evening. Of course not . He sighs. Just like all relationships, theirs needs maintenance. And apparently tonight’s the night, no matter how much he’d been planning on fucking Jared on his hands and knees followed by a quick shower, aiming for both of them in bed to catch the news at 11. 

 

“You really plan on giving your ass up for the rest of your life? I’ve booked more than half the guys you give it up to.” 

 

“What exactly do you think I’m going to do with my life, Jensen? I don’t have much going for me here besides being young and fuck-able. Might as well get a coke addiction and plan on joining the 27-club.” 

 

Jensen snorts. “Your ass ain’t that famous, kid.” 

 

They spend the rest of the car ride in silence, pulling into Jensen’s garage in under five minutes. 

 

“You gonna hit the shower?” Jared asks, after Jensen opens the door and kicks off his shoes, “’Cause I’m kinda hungry.” 

 

“Nah, I’m gonna shower after we fuck,” Jensen says casually, “but I want to change out of my work clothes first—there’s pasta with meatballs or left-over Indian in the fridge. Take whatever you want.” 

 

Jared’s skinny and only growing skinnier by the day. In the last six months he’s gained three shoe sizes and two inches on Jensen. The boy needs more calories than he consumes, his bones poke out from underneath his skin every chance they get. 

 

He lets Jared eat in peace, changing into a pair of grey sweats and a white v-neck. With steady hands, Jensen takes his contacts out and settles his glasses across his nose before throwing himself down on the bed and turning on the T.V., stopping on a nature documentary about the birds of New Zealand. It’s not particularly interesting, but David Attenborough’s voice is soothing enough that he dozes off. 

 

Enveloped in warmth and tightness, his dick feels like it’s in heaven and it only gets better the deeper he goes. The slide is perfect. He pushes up, making a home for himself, and oh fuck, he’s about to blow, even though he’s not ready for the pleasure to be over. He reaches down to grab ahold of his dick, when—Jensen wakes up from his dream with a start. Except that it wasn’t a dream, and his head butts against Jared’s, knocking him almost completely off his dick. 

 

“Goddammit, Jensen. That fucking hurt.” 

 

“Well, what do you expect when I wake up to you riding my dick?” 

 

Jared rubs his head, and Jensen can see a bump already starting to form. The thought that he was the one to put the bruise onto Jared’s smooth skin makes his dick wilt, even though Jared’s hole is still gripping him tightly. 

 

“A thank you might be nice.” 

 

“Well, thanks Jared. Now why don’t you go grab some ice from the kitchen?” 

 

“But—“

 

“No. Taking care of yourself comes first. Sex afterwards.” 

 

Jared grumbles but returns with not one, but two ice-packs in his hand. He’s a good kid, underneath his tough street-talk. 

 

“I’m still horny,” Jared gripes after they’ve sat with matching ice-packs pressed against their heads for a few minutes. Attenborough is touting off facts about the Kiwi, and when he looks over, Jared’s palming his dick. Fucking teenagers. 

 

Jensen is so not in the mood anymore, but Jared is, and he likes to take care of Jared, when he can. 

 

“Fine. What do you want?” 

 

“I wanted to ride you, like the fine stallion you are.” 

 

“Cut the crap or I’m going to sleep and you’re going to have to take care of your blue balls in the bathroom.” 

 

“You really want to know?” Jared asks, sounding small and scared. And hell, if Jared’s insecure about it, Jensen’s not really sure that he wants to know. 

 

He asks anyways, because it’s not about him, it’s about Jared. 

 

“Yes, I do, Jared. That’s what being in a relationship is all about. Not sex. Trust.”

 

“Uhm…right. Trust. Well, I’d, uh. See, the thing is, I’d like to fuck you, actually.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

It’s not like he’s against the idea—hell, he’d offered Jared the chance to fuck him at least half-a-dozen times. Jared had been the one to turn him down. He’d stopped asking, eventually. 

 

“Look, if you don’t want to, I understand. It’s a lot to ask.” 

 

“What? No. Of course it’s not, Jared. Don’t be stupid. I just want to know what’s behind the change of heart.” 

 

“Well, we’re kind of serious now, right, Jensen?” 

 

“Yeah, J. I’m not seeing anyone else, and you’re not emotionally committed to the other guys you sleep with, right?” 

 

Jared snorts. 

 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” he says seriously. “I like you, you like me. You even stay here multiple nights, sometimes. Think that makes us pretty serious, don’t you?” 

 

“Yeah. I do. And actually, I’ve uh, been saving my virginity until the right moment, when, I—you know—actually wanted someone. Not just their body. Or them wanting my body.” 

 

Jensen blinks as he takes in the information. He’d never thought of it that way, never even considered among any possibility in this universe that Jared considered himself a virgin. The thought blows his mind, so to speak. 

 

“So you’ve never topped?” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

“Wow.” 

 

“I guess. I like bottoming, you know that. And it’s much more sought out than topping. I just…I wanted one of my virginities for myself, I guess.” 

 

“And you want me to be your first?” 

 

A blush tinges the tops of Jared’s cheeks. It’s really fucking cute. 

 

“Yeah. I really, really would. You don’t know how hard it was to turn you down all those times you asked.” 

 

“I’ve got a clue. After all, it was my fine ass you were saying no to.” 

 

“Right. Sorry about that. But I’m fully prepared to make up for all of those times now.” 

 

Jensen leans forward and pulls Jared on top of him, running his thumb down all the knobs in Jared’s spine. 

 

“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he says into Jared’s jaw, licking every inch of skin he can find. Sometimes he wishes he could bite, get a little rough even, and leave finger prints on Jared’s hips, marking his claim. But Jared has enough clients who like it rough. Too many, for Jensen’s taste. So instead, he leaves his mark by not marring Jared’s tanned skin with blemishes. 

 

“Me too.” 

 

The constant friction of Jared’s dick against his own, along with the knowledge that he’s going to be Jared’s first, sends pleasure crashing through his body like a tidal wave. Cupping Jared’s face in his hands, he brings Jared’s lips down until they’re kissing slow and steady; a heat that’s building in intensity with every soft press of Jared’s tongue against his own. 

 

“You ready?” he asks Jared, after they’ve pulled away, remembering how to breathe. 

 

“Yeah. I think so,” Jared says, rubbing his cock against Jensen’s. It’s a heady feeling, and Jensen revels in the thought that Jared will soon be in him. No matter what comes next, no matter who Jared sleeps with—this—Jared’s virginity will always be his. 

 

“How do you want me then?” 

 

“On your back, like this. I wanna see your face when I push inside,” Jared says, biting at his lip until a drop of blood falls onto Jensen’s chest. Neither of them make a move to clean it off. It soaks into Jensen’s skin, marking him as Jared’s. 

 

“Good. I want to see your face, too. Now. Where’s the lube?” 

 

Jared leans down and nuzzles into the side of his neck, nipping at his ear. Hmm. Jensen likes this bolder side of Jared. After all the food, clothes, money, and sex they’ve shared, somehow, it’s not until this moment that he’s really seeing, experiencing Jared. Or, Jared in his entirety, unrestrained by his profession. A taste of maybe who he once was. Who he could be. 

 

“Actually,” Jared whispers into his ear. “I was hoping you’d let me open you up on my tongue.” 

 

“Just the way you like it, huh?” 

 

In response, Jared presses open kisses down his chest, stopping to suck at Jensen’s nipples, flicking the peaks gently with the tip of his tongue. Oh fuck. Jensen’s back arches on instinct, trying to make Jared take more of him into his warm, wet mouth. Just when he’s almost at stimulation overload on one side, Jared switches to the other, leaving him to slowly turn into a writhing puddle, something that barely even resembles a human with a consciousness anymore. 

 

Somewhere along the line, in a brief moment of clarity while Jared sucks his way tactfully into Jensen’s most hidden, pinkest bits of flesh, Jensen thinks it shouldn’t be like this for Jared. He’s sixteen. He should be awkward. Fumbling. Have no clue about the easiest way to make Jensen blow his load quickly with his tongue dancing across the underside of his foreskin, or how to spread his ass out carefully, and tactfully lick his way inside, encouraging Jensen to open up to him. 

 

What comes out of his mouth however is a keening, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” 

 

Jared responds by adding in a long, bony finger in alongside his tongue. Fucking Jensen with two pieces of himself. It doesn’t hurt, even though it’s been a long time (2 years, maybe, that bar back in Wyoming with that one cowboy?), and Jensen just wants Jared inside of him. To feel the stretch, the burn. The soft scrape of the ridge on Jared’s dick against his inner walls. His cock’s already bigger than Jensen’s, even though it’s still got a few years left of growing. Just like the rest of Jared. So yeah, if he wants to take whatever Jared’s going to be packing, then he’d better start now. 

 

“Fuck me,” he begs when he feels like he might not be able to take it anymore. His own dick is lying neglected against his stomach, a pool of pre-come starting to form next to Jared’s single drop of dried blood on his abdomen. 

 

“Yeah,” Jared says, “I will, sweetheart.” 

 

Jared has never, never used a pet name until this very moment, and Jensen’s cock blurts out another bead of pre-come in response. It makes Jared chuckle, as he watches Jensen’s dick twitch. But when Jared lines up, takes his dick in one hand, and spreads Jensen’s legs far enough apart that he growls because his ligaments and tendons are screaming that they can’t stretch quite that far, he looks directly at Jensen. 

 

Green. Blue. Brown. Grey. Trust. Love. Pain. Hurt. Jensen sees it all, sees as deep into Jared’s developing brain and soul as is humanly possible while Jared pushes into him, his bottom lip hanging open in pleasure. This. Now this is how it’s supposed to be. Jared might be able to play every other part of his body, he can sure as hell take Jensen’s cock like the pro that he is. But here. Right now. Jared’s awkward and fumbling. Struggling to know what to do with his hands to keep himself upright but still have decent leverage. His thrusts are somewhat slow, somewhat erratic. He’s probably fighting off coming too soon, but Jensen doesn’t want slow, so he hooks his ankles around Jared’s back and pushes up, forcing Jared to penetrate him completely. 

 

“C’mon, Jared,” he taunts, trying to goad him into fucking him faster. “Show me what you can do with that oversized dick.” 

 

“Dammit, Jensen,” Jared snarls, but fucks in a little deeper. “If I fuck you any faster, I’m going to blow.” 

 

“So do it,” he challenges. “You’re sixteen, what will it take you to get it back up? 5 minutes?” 

 

“Fine,” Jared says. “But if you want me to keep fucking you, you don’t get to touch yourself. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want, but you’ve got to come on my cock. Deal?” 

 

“Deal.” 

 

He forgets it almost a minute later when both of their hips are frantically grinding, bodies shining with sweat, Jared completely sheathed inside of him. Jensen needs to get off. Like now. And before he can remember that Jared’s going to fuck him through an orgasm, he reaches down to give his dick a little friction. 

 

“No,” Jared growls from above him, “tonight your dick is mine.” Then Jensen finds both his wrists enclosed by one of Jared’s hot hands, and he whines. 

 

“Faster. Please faster.” 

 

Jared blows his load right then. 

 

It takes three more times until Jensen gets off, his dick bouncing between both of their stomachs as he rides Jared’s cock. But even better than the pleasure wracking Jensen’s body with convulsions that force Jared over the edge too for the fourth time this evening, are Jared’s words. 

 

It’s a spur of the moment, “God, I love you,” bitten in his collar bone, but Jensen will take it. He’ll take anything that Jared has to give him. 

 

“Yeah, you’re pretty amazing yourself,” he says, as Jared pulls out and turns both of them on their sides. Usually it’s Jared’s long form curled into Jensen’s filled-out frame, but this time Jensen lets Jared be the big spoon. It’s a big night for Jared, and Jensen doesn’t want to ruin it, despite the prominent elbow digging into his ribs from the arm that Jared’s thrown over his chest, or the pointed hip bones pressing indents into the soft curve of his ass. He falls asleep anyways, their hearts beating in sync. 

 

\--

 

Any other day, Jensen would have called in sick, made breakfast in bed for the two of them and spent the day fucking until both of their dicks were spent and sore, but unfortunately, he’s up before six, putting on his uniform. Depositions can go fuck themselves. Undershirt, ironed shirt, creased pants, gun-holster and radio. 

 

Jared doesn’t wake up as he gets ready. He looks young, too young while he’s asleep, still baby-faced with curls at the top of his spine, and Jensen wishes he could lock him inside, so he’d never have to face the harsh reality of the streets again. But it’s not his job. It’s his job to put away the people who hurt Jared. Who put bruises on his boy’s skin, or draw blood that’s not a direct result of Jared’s pleasure. Jensen doesn’t bother to wake Jared up. The kid will let himself out later. 

 

He leaves coffee on the counter and a plate of French toast out for Jared when he finally arises, probably around noon. 

 

Two more years. Seven-hundred and thirty days. 17,520 hours. He can make it. Jared can make it. They’ll move somewhere where no one knows either of them. Where no one knows that Jared was a hooker. Where he’ll get to be Jensen’s boyfriend, plain and simple. 

 

But first, he’s got to stay out of prison, and Jared’s got to stay out of the morgue. That’s their deal. And Jensen fully plans on holding Jared to his end of the bargain.


	2. Dream of Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing Jensen expected the week Jared turned 18 was for him to get picked up drunk on a street corner by his co-workers at the Denver P.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Written first and foremost as a very belated birthday present to my dearest cassiopeia7, (also doubling as my June entry for smpc) who wanted a sequel to Pure like Blood. I, uh, suck at writing sequels to anything--I'm a one shot kinda girl, which is why it always takes me, oh say, FOREVER, and sadly I'm kinda brain dead from the heat wave that we're having. Sorry it's so late, bb. I hope it's okay anyways ♥ ♥ ♥

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

It wasn’t like the kid to be absent from his corner on a Saturday night, even though a snowstorm had blown in over the Rockies earlier in the day, covering the streets of Denver with over a foot of fresh, white, powdery snow. But Jensen had waited, and it wasn’t like Jared had an iphone. Jared was either there or he wasn’t. It was that simple. Although Jensen didn’t like it, there was always the possibility that he got picked up by another john earlier that evening. Maybe even for the whole night. The prospect of having a little extra cash always made Jared flighty even under the best of circumstances. And in the middle of a snow-storm? The kid had probably accepted the first offer he got, not waiting around to see if Jensen was going to brave the weather. 

But Jared should have known he’d show. He’d never missed one of their Saturday night dates so far, even though Jared had skipped out on his fair share. Not that Jensen blamed him. It wasn’t like was helping the situation, paying the kid every time they fucked. 

After circling the block for about thirty minutes, taking care to go down the side streets, Jensen had taken his trusty old Jeep back to his house and settled down with a glass of red wine and an old Hitchcock movie—Vertigo. Distraction was better than worrying about Jared lying battered and bloody in a back alleyway, or possibly even worse, thinking of him ass-up in a dirty motel, letting some jackass split him open and put bruises on his ribs and hips. 

But then--then he’d gotten a call from the precinct. It was Jeff, saying they had a kid named Jared, and that he’d been name dropping how he knew one of the officers. 

Officer Ackles. _Uncle Jensen_ , was the name Jeff had used, the question hanging uneasily in his voice. 

Apparently Jared was in a holding cell drunk, 100% plastered, full to the brim of teenage confidence and absolutely no judgment. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

Jensen put down the roll of tape he was using to pack up a box of Williams-Sonoma cookbooks. Next week Jared was turning 18, and he had everything packed. Everything ready to get the hell out of dodge and start their life together. 

Except for this was what he got for banking his entire future on a seventeen-year-old. Instead of buying a house and making Jared study for the G.E.D while he found a job somewhere low-profile like northern California or Southern Oregon, he was spending his Saturday night picking Jared up from jail. 

He didn’t bother putting on real clothes, just grabbed his thick winter jacket, Denver Pioneer’s Hockey beanie with earflaps, and headed out, slamming the door in the process. 

\--

Despite snow tires, his Jeep skidded and fishtailed on the way over to the station. He got there in one nearly-frozen piece though, the heat stopped working about a week ago, and tonight it was close to -15F outside. Maybe colder with the wind-chill. 

It was still snowing softly as he walked up the cement steps, readjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose before steadying himself with a deep breath and pushing the doors open. 

All he could hope for was to leave with Jared—preferably without getting himself arrested for statutory rape. 

“Hey,” he said as he walked in, waving casually to Morgan who at this hour was most likely looking up what new truck he’d like to buy with his overtime money while waiting for any 911 phone calls. “Heard you picked up Jared.” 

“So you really know that asshole?” 

“Give him a break, Jeff. He’s just a stupid seventeen-year-old kid.” 

“And your nephew, apparently?” 

Jensen shrugged, not entirely comfortable where the conversation was going. It was easy enough to look up that Jared didn’t have a single legal tie to his family. 

“Nah, not really. Friend of Mac’s has been having problems with him—“ 

“Oh, I can’t imagine why that is, he’s such a charming kid,” Jeff interrupted. 

“In any case,” Jensen continued, “She asked Mac if I’d look after him for a while. You know. Since I’m a police officer.” 

“And gay,” Jeff coughed underneath his breath. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Well, the boy probably needs a good gay role model. Being as he offered to blow half my men before he remembered he had a get-out-of-jail-free card knowing you.” 

Right. A good role model. Exactly what Jensen’s failed at being in the last two years. Only now it’s hitting him in the face how far away from success he’d fallen. Once he got Jared home, whatever fairy-tale ending he’d thought up for the two of them was going out the window. Jared needed clean up his act, or he was going to put an end to their obviously unhealthy relationship. 

“Cut him some slack, Jeff. Jared’s just confused. He’s had a rough life, no stability. Not that it excuses his behavior, but I’m doing the best I can to provide more than that for him…”

“Not that I’m one to intrude on other people’s business—“

Jensen raised his eyebrows, because Jeff always stuck his nose into everyone at the station’s person affairs. 

“But I think Jared needs more than what you can give him.” 

“I haven’t had him for that long…”

Jeff shrugged. “Alright. But if you decide you need outside help, let me know. I’ll hook you up.” 

“Maybe,” Jensen said. “But I think he just needs some good sense knocked into that thick skull of his. A wake-up call.” 

It was definitely a wakeup call for Jensen, the minute they entered the hall where the holding cells were—and Jared’s off-pitch voice reverberated loudly off the cinderblock walls. 

_“You and me baby ain’t nothing but mammals, so let’s do it like they do on the discovery channel. ”_

“Classy, Jared,” he said, breaking up Jared’s mildly horrific version of Bad Touch.

“Jensen!” Jared yelled, clearly full of excitement, even without seeing Jensen. When they arrived at the door to his cell, Jensen did his best to look unimpressed with the way that Jared was dressed in his usual cut-off jean shorts and a blue button down tied an inch above his navel. 

“What the fuck are you wearing? You realize it’s snowing outside right? Frostbite, hypothermia ring any bells?” 

Jared smiled easily and leaned forward, hands on the bars. He was close enough that Jensen could smell the cheap vodka on his breath. 

“Nah, I knew you’d come find me. Or, I thought it was you, anyways, when the police car rolled up. Turns out it was these assholes instead. Thought I’d give ‘em a run for their money. But hey—your loss, boys.” 

“Jared,” Jensen hissed, putting every ounce of parental influence into his voice. “These men are my friends and my co-workers.” 

“Of course, Uncle Jensen,” Jared said, licking his bottom lip in an unmistakably sexual way, before turning towards Jeff, “So sorry officers. No disrespect meant.” 

“Bullshit,” Jeff muttered underneath his breath, letting Jared out of the cell with a resigned look to Jensen. “Don’t want to see him here again, got it?” 

“Of course,” Jensen responded. He had absolutely no intention of ever letting Jared hit the streets again. Not if he had to tie him to a chair in his basement and force feed common sense into the kid’s body. 

The second that Jared was let out, he leaned over and whispered, somehow shy and dirty at the same time, “I’ll blow you in the bathroom, if you want. Payment for coming to pick me up.” 

“Jared,” he said, trying his hardest not to lose his temper in front of his colleagues. “Sit your ass down on the bench while I pay your fines. And I don’t want a single world coming out of your mouth.” 

Sulking, Jared walked over to the bench and laid down, still humming tunes from the _Blood Hound Gang._

It took about thirty minutes to get the paper work in order and by the time Jensen was done signing his life away for a kid who was nothing but trouble (but somehow Jensen was madly in love with him anyways), Jared was curled up on the bench snoring. 

“Guess I better get him home.” 

“Mmm,” Jeff responded, still clearly pondering the fact that somehow, Jared belonged to Jensen. “Don’t beat yourself up over him, Jen. Some people don’t want to be saved.” 

“Sometimes, people want to be, but they don’t think they’re worthy.” 

The second he said it, he realized he was right. Not even hopeful that it was the truth, but goddamn sure. There was no other reason that Jared was acting out, getting drunk and offering to blow his co-workers. No, Jared was trying to show Jensen what he thought of himself. That he didn’t believe he was worth Jensen’s time and effort. That he was fucking scared to do anything else with his life, because it carried the possibility of failure. 

Well, Jensen was sure as hell not going to let Jared get away with that. 

He woke Jared up with a flick to the ear. The kid had been a bit of a jackass after all—he couldn’t let it slide completely. 

“Ow. Stop it.” 

“C’mon, Jared. Let’s go.” He pulled Jared up by the collar of his shirt, and slung an arm around his waist to support Jared’s still piss-poor balance. 

“Got any cigs?” 

“No.” 

“Can we stop and get some?” 

“No. We’re getting you home. And then a ton of water and some Tylenol.” 

“Fuck me first?” 

“Not even if you begged.” 

There were lines, and then there were lines. Fucking Jared on a regular basis while paying him so that he could buy food (and alright, if he’s being honest, probably cigarettes) was one thing. Fucking him while Jared was vulnerable and goddamn wasted—Jensen had no intention of crossing that line any time soon. 

Jared tried anyways, reaching over the console to palm Jensen through his sweat pants. 

“No means no, Jared,” he said, “even if we’ve just fucked, even if you don’t hear it a lot, it doesn’t make it less true.” 

Luckily, Jared didn’t put up much of a fight once they got home. He wandered into the living room and turned on the TV while Jensen reheated half a Chipotle burrito in the microwave before falling onto the couch next to Jared, making sure he had food and water in his stomach. 

It wasn’t not long before he curled into Jensen’s side, nuzzling his way under Jensen’s arm. 

“’M sorry,” Jared slurred, practically into Jensen’s chest. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Thought it was you in the car, didn’t have time to bail when I saw it wasn’t.” 

“It’s okay,” Jensen said, running his hand through the growing out strands of Jared’s hair. “I’m just glad you’re safe. Glad you’re here with me and not out on the streets.” 

Jared didn’t reply; he was softly snoring into Jensen’s cotton Police Academy t-shirt. 

\--

Jensen woke up in the morning to a crick in his neck and Jared moving on top of him. His dick perked up immediately—years of excellent conditioning—courtesy of Jared’s firm ass. 

“G’morning,” he mumbled, voice still residing in the bottom of his throat, at least half an octave lower than normal. “How you feeling?” 

Jared leaned down to kiss him, slowly at first, no tongue, just lips pressed against each other. It forced Jensen to get a better angle, to move up on the couch until he was lying on his back, head propped up against the pillow. Although they still needed to talk, Jensen had never turned Jared down before, and they both needed this. Reassurance that no matter what happened next, whatever words came out of their mouths, they still wanted, still depended on each other. 

Jared stopped kissing him, but just as Jensen was about to protest, Jared ran his thumb over the bottom of Jensen’s mouth before sliding it inside, making Jensen open up around him. 

“I feel great. Not even a headache.” 

“Fucking teenagers,” Jensen said around Jared’s thumb. 

“Whatever. You love me. Even when I’m a total jerk to everyone you know, you still fucking love me.” 

The fact that Jared was acknowledging that Jensen liked him for more than quick and sloppy blow jobs in the morning or a long hard fuck to release tension after a long day at work made him smile. 

“You’re goddamn right I do.” He thrusted his hips up, pressing his dick into the softness of Jared’s balls. “And don’t you forget it.” 

Jared sat up completely then, biting his lip coyly, like he was unsure if he should let Jensen fuck him. “I dunno, Jensen. Want to show me how much you love me? I’m not quite sure.” 

“Hell yeah I do, Jay. Gotta take off those shorts first though, babe.” 

Jared undid his shorts slowly, rotating his pelvis enticingly while staring Jensen in the eyes. Still biting his lip, like he was unsure if Jensen was going to flip out at any moment when he remembered that Jared was drunk and offering up sexual favors like candy to his co-workers less than twelve hours ago. 

It made something pound in his chest, knowing that somehow, somewhere deep inside, Jared was not 100% sure that Jensen wanted him. 

“Jared,” he asked, as calm as he could. “I want you to lie down on the couch, and I’m going to worship every bit of your beautiful body.” 

Jared laughed, because, hell, he was seventeen and didn’t have a clue what it meant to have someone say they love him and mean it. And Jensen planned on doing so every day for the rest of their (hopefully) long lives. 

Once he wrangled Jared’s still coltish legs and body into position, he started with sucking lightly on Jared’s throat. Not enough to leave bruises, but to really feel Jared’s pulse bounding through his arteries. He worked his ways down Jared’s collar bones, alternating sharp nips with gentle kisses, and when he got to Jared’s nipples he brought his hands in on the action, attempting to knead them, pressing them together as if Jared was a girl. 

“Fuck, you’re sensitive,” he said, enjoying the way that Jared was grinding into his thigh while he alternated licking each nipple. 

He backed off when it was clear that Jared was about to get off, making him whine as he removed all stimulation. 

“Oh no, babe. I’m not nearly done with you.” 

“Jensen, I need it,” Jared whined, sweat already building up in the hollow of his throat, plastering his bangs to his forehead. “I need to get off.” 

“You will,” Jensen smiled, his own cock hard and aching in his sweat pants. “But not yet.” 

He worked Jared for almost a half-hour, tasting every inch of his lightly muscled, but sharply angled body. Moving down until Jared literally sobbed with relief when Jensen took one of his balls into his mouth and sucked. He made sure that both balls were properly attended to, wet with spit and drawn up tightly against Jared’s body by the time he fed the tip of Jared’s dick into his mouth. 

It tasted salty and sweaty, absolutely dripping with pre-come, which Jensen readily swallowed. Over the last two years, Jared had gotten both bigger, thicker, making it so that Jensen could no longer easily take all of him in his mouth. Jared, however, happily helped, grabbing onto his hair and shoving his face down until he started gagging with his chin pressed against Jared’s balls. Jensen started bucking him after a minute, trying to get Jared’s dick out of his compromised airway. It was worth it though. Worth the tears and the sore feeling in the back of his throat that Jensen knew would be there for at least a week, when Jared came, yelling his name. 

When he said _thank you_ , afterwards, and relaxed back into the couch. 

Jensen manhandled Jared until Jared was curled in front of him, body pressed safely against his own. Despite the fact that he was still hard, he could wait until Jared woke again. There had never been a time when Jared hadn’t wanted round two. 

But afterwards, they were going to talk. To discuss Jared leaving his profession for real, about finding validation somewhere else in life. About what Jared wanted in a relationship, because Jensen’s done paying him. He was done sharing him, too. 

“California seems nice, if we're really leaving,” Jared said, taking Jensen’s finger tips to his mouth and kissing them. “You know, I’ve never seen the ocean.” 

One more week. Seven days. Thirty cups of coffee. One smart-ass, soon-to-be-ex-hooker at his side. 

Almost there.


End file.
